Heart and Soul
by StBridget
Summary: In a world of soulmates most people never find, Steve learns the one that should be his isn't, and the one that is is someone he never would have expected. Soulmate AU. New verse.
1. Chapter 1

**Hawaii Five-0 is property of CBS and its creators.  
**

 **A/N: Inspired by pterawaters' excursions into soulmate verses over on AO3.**

Everyone has a soulmate, but not everyone finds theirs. In fact, most people don't. In theory, their soulmate _should_ be someone they'd meet during their life, but in reality there's too many variables, too many threads, too much free will for Fate to keep track of.

Steve McGarrett thought he'd met his soulmate in the Navy. Her name was Catherine Rollins. She was everything Steve could possibly hope for. She was beautiful, smart, ambitious, and devoted to the Navy. He was a SEAL, she was in Intelligence, until eventually he transferred to Intelligence as well.

There was something missing, though. Steve was happy, he was comfortable, he was even in love, but he knew deep down she wasn't his soulmate. By all rights, she _should_ be his soulmate; he couldn't imagine anyone more perfect for him, but he knew she wasn't. There wasn't that spark, that certainty, that electricity he'd heard about from people who'd found their soulmate. They didn't feel like one person; he could tell where he ended and Catherine began. She wasn't someone he couldn't imagine being without; he could. He didn't want to, but he could. He could see himself spending the rest of his life with Catherine, but he couldn't bring himself to marry her, to take that final step and join them together until death do them part. That was for his soulmate, and that wasn't Catherine.

When Steve met his soulmate, he didn't realize it at first. It wasn't love at first sight. There wasn't this instant flash of knowing. He didn't look at his soulmate and see the person he was destined to spend the rest of his life with. He saw a short, blond cop, dressed completely inappropriately in a dress shirt, dress slacks, and a tie, for heaven's sake, pointing a gun at him across his father's garage. He saw someone who refused to be bullied (Steve would call it refusing to listen to reason). He saw someone who drove him to do something he'd just turned down—accept the offer to lead the Governor's task force.

Steve wanted to dismiss the man (Danny Williams, he learned), but he couldn't. It wasn't that he couldn't get the man out of his mind, was haunted by those icy blue eyes, pictured his muscled body naked beneath him (well, okay, maybe he did. Except the last one. Okay, maybe the last one, too). It was because Danny was the one most likely to hold the clues to solving John McGarrett's murder. So Steve showed up at Danny's the next day, intending to ask him, reasonably, to be his partner. Instead, he ended up shanghaiing the man, bitching all the while, and practically forcing him to be his partner.

The man couldn't stop complaining, hands waving energetically, about being conscripted, about the case, and then veering completely off course to complain about being a haole, all the things he hated about Hawaii, and about his ex-wife. Steve learned more about Danny in that first hour than he'd told Catherine about himself in the first year. He just wanted Danny to _shut up already_ , and yet he wanted the cop to go on talking forever just so he could hear his voice.

Then they tracked down their lead and things went sideways. Bullets started flying. When they stopped, their only lead was dead, and Danny was bleeding from a graze on his arm. Danny started yelling at Steve for getting him shot and needing to apologize. Steve barked at him, expecting Danny to shut up and fall into line. Instead, Steve found himself the recipient of a right hook to the jaw.

It should have hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. He should have been furious at Danny, and to outward appearances he was, putting Danny in a wrist lock until he relented. But it didn't, and he wasn't. Instead, when Danny's fist connected with his jaw, Steve felt an intense euphoria he'd never felt without an orgasm, and maybe even then. He felt a spark he'd never felt before. He felt complete, like he'd found the missing piece of himself. He felt like he'd come home, not to Hawaii, not to his father, not to his past, but to this man. In that second, he knew.

Danny Williams was his soulmate.

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A/N: My apologies for departing from my main series, but this little plot bunny wouldn't let go. :) I'll get back to the others soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: bswindle 20 wanted Danny's POV, so here you go!  
**

Danny Williams didn't believe in soulmates. Or rather, he did believe in soulmates, just not _his_ soulmate. Oh, he could accept there was someone out there somewhere who was destined for him in theory, but he didn't think it was likely in reality. His parents weren't soulmates, and they got along just fine; they'd been married almost 40 years in fact. So, Danny felt that while a soulmate might be _nice_ , it certainly wasn't _necessary_.

So, when Rachel rear-ended his cruiser, Danny was perfectly happy to fall in love, marry her, have kids with her (well, one kid, at least—Gracie was the best, and he couldn't ask for anything more), and spend the rest of his life with her.

Then Rachel met her soulmate, divorced Danny, and took Grace halfway across the world to a godforsaken lump of volcanic rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Danny knew then that, even if he wanted to find his soulmate, he wasn't going to. Certainly, fate hadn't counted on him picking up and moving to _Hawaii_ of all places.

So, Danny was floored, to say the least, when he did meet his soulmate. That he met them at all was astounding enough; the _who_ was even more so. Danny had a type. He liked them tall, dark, beautiful, smart, and funny. And female. Very, very female.

So, when Danny met a tall, dark, beautiful, smart (funny was debatable) _male_ , soulmates was the last thing on his mind. What was on his mind was this Neanderthal who had invaded his crime scene and was now trying to remove evidence. Worse, this oaf apparently had an in with the governor and was now _taking over_ his investigation. Danny didn't expect to even cross paths with the man again after handing over his files, let alone spend the rest of his life with him.

Danny was surprised, therefore, when the big lunk (Steve McGarrett, the victim's son, apparently) showed up on his doorstep the next morning and practically shanghaied Danny into being his partner. Danny would never admit that the man had crossed his mind once or twice (or three or four or twenty) times since the day before, or that he maybe, just _maybe_ mind you, had dreamed about him, and he certainly wasn't going to confess that the dreams had been maybe, just a little, just a _tiny bit_ maybe, erotic.

Instead, Danny, as was his wont, blustered and complained and bitched and moaned and told McGarrett in no uncertain terms exactly what he thought of him. Which led to what HPD thought of Danny, which led to what Danny thought of Hawaii, which led to Danny sharing out what seemed his whole life story. This surprised Danny. He was a chatty person, sure, and maybe, just _maybe_ mind you, tended to overshare, at least according to some people, but he didn't remember ever pouring out his heart like this to someone he'd known less than 24 hours.

Then Danny got shot, and Steve refused to apologize, instead snapping at him. So, Danny responded in the only way he possibly could—he hit him. Danny was expecting the impact of fist on bone. He was expecting the bone-jarring _thud_. What he wasn't expecting was the jolt of electricity that shot up his arm. When Steve got him in a wristlock, Danny was expecting it to hurt. He wasn't expecting to be filled with so much pleasure it made him high. Danny didn't know what had hit him. Then he understood.

Steve McGarrett was his soulmate.

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I've still got at least 3 more chapters, 2 from Steve's POV and one from Danny's. I'm probably going to alternate showing the same events from each of their POV, so it's probably going to be a bit choppy, for which I apologize.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing he had to do, Steve knew, was tell Catherine. Well, okay, technically, the first thing he should probably do was talk to Danny, something they hadn't done. Steve knew Danny had felt it, too, but neither of them said anything, going along just as they had before _it_ happened. Danny bitched at him about apologizing, Steve defended himself, Danny told him about his daughter's nickname then bitched at Steve for using it, Steve rushed headlong into a firefight, and Danny yelled at him, even when they got their guy. This set a pattern for their relationship. It was loud, and contentious, and the very opposite of a loving, caring relationship that Steve thought soulmates should have.

And Steve couldn't get enough of it. He found himself inviting Danny over after work just to spend time with him. He bought Danny a weekend at a resort with his daughter, just so Danny wouldn't be unhappy. He made sure Rachel dropped the petition for soul custody, because hurting Danny like that hurt _him_ just as much.

He reveled in each argument, each snide remark, every time Danny yelled at him. He knew, somehow, that that was how Danny showed he cared. Danny wasn't like that with anyone else, Steve noted. Maybe that wasn't how all soulmates were, but that's how _they_ were, and it just seemed right. Every bard they traded meant more than the tenderest whispers of love shared between him and Catherine.

And so, Steve knew he had to tell Catherine it was over. Even if things never progressed between him and Danny (and oh, how Steve wanted them to!), he knew he'd rather spend the rest of his life as Danny's friend than trapped (that's how he now felt about it) in a relationship with someone who wasn't his soulmate.

Steve put off telling her, though. He told himself she was due for leave in a few weeks, and he'd see her then, that it was better to tell her in person. And it was, but he could have prepared her, could have told her they needed to talk, could have let her know things were different, instead of letting her come into port thinking everything was the same.

Steve was a coward. He knew it, but it was hard to throw away a sure thing, even if he no longer wanted it, especially when he had no idea if he was ever going to get what he did want. He couldn't lie to Catherine, though, and he couldn't lie to himself. They were over, had probably been doomed from the start. Steve was a closet romantic, always holding out for his soulmate, even when he had a good thing going. Now he'd found his soulmate, and he couldn't settle for anything less.

He picked Catherine up, and she leaned in to give him a kiss, but he turned his head at the last second, kissing her on the cheek instead. She raised her eyebrows, but didn't say anything. Steve wasn't the most demonstrative at the best of times, and they were in a semi-public place. She figured she just didn't want to draw attention to himself, especially with his high-profile new job.

Then, Steve set her duffle in the spare room. That she couldn't ignore. "I thought I was sleeping with you," she said.

Steve wouldn't look her in the eye. "I've only got a twin. You'll be more comfortable in here."

"Steve." She waited until he looked at her, something in his eyes. Guilt, she realized. "We've shared bunks on ships. Doesn't get much smaller than that. You're not worried about my comfort. You've been off since I got here. What's going on?"

This was the moment of truth. Steve took a deep breath, then spit out what he had to say. "I. . .I've met someone."

Catherine looked at him intently, searching for something she seemed to find. "She's your soulmate, isn't she." It wasn't a question.

"He, actually," Steve said. "And, yeah."

That hit Catherine like a punch to the gut. Not only was _she_ not his soulmate, it was some guy. Another woman she could maybe compete with, maybe convince Steve he'd rather be with her. But a guy? That was way out of Catherine's ballpark.

"I. . .I thought we were soulmates," she said, desperately, hoping saying it would make it true. It wasn't though, never had been, and she knew it, no matter how badly she wanted it to be otherwise.

"We weren't," he said softly. "Never were. I think I always knew it. I think _you_ always knew it."

She had to admit he was right, but only to herself. "But we're so good together. Isn't that enough?"

Steve looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry, but no, it's not. I'm not sure it ever was, but now. . .Now, I can't even pretend."

Catherine understood, she really did. If she'd found her soulmate, she'd probably do the same thing. Still, she couldn't help but ask. "Is it as good as what we had?"

She wasn't sure why she wanted to know. She knew the answer—it was better, a thousand times better. That's what people always said. So, she was surprised when Steve said, "I don't know. We're not together like that. Haven't even talked about it, really."

Catherine was confused. "Then how. . ."

"I just know," Steve said. "I can't explain it. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. He's loud, and obnoxious, and he questions every order, and he goes toe-to-toe with me over everything, and I can't get enough of him. I'd rather just be his friend for the rest of my life than ever be in any sort of relationship with anyone else."

She nodded slowly. "I see." She picked up her bag. "I think I'll be more comfortable on base." She turned to go, but Steve stopped her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I really, really am. I should have said something, not let you walk in here like things were the same when they're not. I love you, Catherine. I just can't be with you."

She pulled away. She needed to get out before she burst into tears. She couldn't let him see her cry. "I wish you luck," she said, and she meant it, even though her heart was breaking. Then she walked out.

Steve watched her go. He knew he should feel some regret—he had _years_ invested with Catherine, and he'd only known Danny a few weeks. He felt like his heart should be breaking, like hers clearly was, but it wasn't. All Steve felt was relief. His heart was finally free. Free for Danny.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve McGarrett was the most frustrating, irritating, annoying, overbearing man Danny had ever met. He was reckless, arrogant, and used to being obeyed without question. He was also kind, caring, loyal, and the most gorgeous person Danny had ever laid eyes on. Ever since his epiphany, Danny wasn't sure whether he wanted to kill Steve or bend him over the nearest surface. Usually both. Simultaneously.

Danny wasn't sure what to do with the knowledge that Steve was his soulmate. He had no desire for a soulmate, no _need_ , and if he did, Steve McGarrett would most certainly not be his choice. But he couldn't resist the man. It wasn't just physical, though that was undeniable. Danny found himself drawn to Steve's personality. He enjoyed spending time with Steve, on or off the job. They complemented each other, challenged each other, forced each other to be their best. Steve made Danny and better person, and Danny hoped he did the same.

Danny's resistance started weakening when Steve presented him with the weekend at the resort with Grace. Anybody who'd ever met him knew the way to Danny's heart was through Grace, but he was still surprised Steve had picked up on that so quickly. Then, Steve intervened when Rachel was threatening to take Grace away, and Danny was a goner. Nobody, not even his family, had done something like that for him. He knew then that resistance was futile. He knew then that he would be spending the rest of his life with Steve McGarrett.

But they never _did_ anything about it, which was both frustrating and fine. Frustrating because Danny wanted to get his hands—and his mouth—on every inch of Steve, touching, licking, sucking. . .erm, well, you get the idea. It made Danny blush whenever he thought about it, which was frequently. Very, very frequently.

Fine because there was no rush. They had the rest of their lives. They hadn't even talked about it, but Danny knew it, knew Steve felt the same, and it was fine, it was good, they could just be them, and they'd get around to it eventually. In the meantime, there was touching. Lots and lots of touching. A hand on the back here, one on the arm there, the occasional brushing of hands, shoulders touching as they stood side by side. Danny was a very tactile person—he'd been accused of not respecting personal space, which was ridiculous. He respected personal space. Most of the time. Sometimes. Occasionally. Okay, maybe hardly at all. But that was beside the point. Steve was different. Danny didn't just invade his personal space when he was yelling at him, which was often. He wanted to do it _all the time_. He couldn't get enough of touching Steve, and Steve seemed to feel the same way, reaching out on those rare occasions Danny didn't.

It came to a head during one of their busts, which Danny, looking back, realized was probably inevitable. Those adrenaline-fueled moments when Steve threw caution to the wind and raced headlong into life-threatening situations brought out Danny's feelings for the man more than anything else—both the urge to kill and the urge to kiss. So, one day, Danny did just that.

Steve had gotten shot, several bullets to the vest, enough to bruise ribs, and a bullet lodged in his shoulder, requiring surgery to get out. The paramedics whisked Steve off before Danny could get to him, and he was in surgery before Danny got to the hospital. Danny was in an absolute panic. He knew Steve would be fine, knew it was no big deal, but he had to see it for himself. He couldn't help the worst case scenarios flying through his mind. What if Steve didn't make it? What if Danny never got a chance to tell him he loved him?

Danny was by Steve's bedside when he woke up. The blond opened his mouth to yell at Steve, but nothing came out. Not because he didn't have anything to say, but because he had too much to say. He didn't know where to start. So, instead, Danny kissed him.

It was like fireworks exploded in his brain. He'd never felt anything so intense. All their pent-up emotions came pouring out. Danny felt like crawling under Steve's skin and never coming out. He found himself crawling onto Steve's bed, straddling him, deepening the kiss, never wanting it to end. In that moment, Danny had another epiphany. This was it. There was no going back now. Steve was _his_.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve never wanted Danny to stop kissing him. He'd waited too long for this, and it felt too good. There weren't fireworks—he was too far gone for that. There was just _Danny_. Danny crawled onto the bed and straddled him, never breaking the kiss. Steve wrapped his arms around the shorter man's back, pulling him close, trying to merge them into one.

His hissed as Danny's weight pressed onto his chest. Damn ribs. Danny broke the kiss and rolled off. Steve whimpered and reached for him, desperately wanting him back, pain and all. Danny gripped his hand tightly. "Hey, it's okay, just don't want to hurt you more."

"Wanna get out of here," Steve whined.

Danny looked at him with lust-filled eyes. "Yeah, me, too. Doctor said as soon as the IV antibiotics were done you could go."

Steve looked up at the bag slowly dripping its contents into his arm. "How much longer?"

"About another hour."

"Too long," Steve said. "Want you now."

"Well," Danny said, leering at Steve, "I can't do everything I want to you, but I can at least give you a kiss to tide you over." He leaned over and touched his lips to Steve's. The kiss immediately turned heated. Danny pushed inside Steve's mouth, and their tongues twined around each other. Steve chased Danny into his mouth and took control. It was no less spectacular than their first kiss. If anything, it was even more so.

Steve moaned and pulled Danny towards him, but the other man resisted. "None of that, now. Can't have you getting even more injured."

Steve tugged again. "At least lie beside me."

"I don't think it's big enough," Danny said, regretfully.

"Sure it is," Steve said, scooching over as far as possible. "I've gotten two people in a Navy bunk, and they're smaller."

"Okay, then." Danny carefully settled on the bed next to Steve. Steve pulled him as close as possible without aggravating his injuries, holding him tightly with his good arm. They dozed there, content to be wrapped in each other's arms, until the doctor came to remove Steve's IV.

She smiled at the two but made no other comment. "Okay, Commander. Let's get this removed, then you can go home. I'm sure you're glad to hear that."

Steve looked at Danny who looked back with eyes full of promise. "I can't wait."

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Danny drove to Steve's house at a speed that would do Steve proud if the SEAL weren't out of it from the meds. Not as out of it as he should have been, though. Danny's proximity was keeping him alert, the sexual tension practically humming between them. Steve rode with his hand on Danny's thigh, as high as decency would permit, and Danny kept throwing burning glances his way.

They reached the bedroom, and Danny pushed Steve onto the mattress and crawled on top of him, kissing him with the same intensity as before. Steve would have marveled that the kiss was just as fantastic as the others, if he'd been capable of rational thought. Instead, all he could thing of was getting Danny closer.

Danny held back, gentling the kiss. "Shh, take it easy. Let me do all the work. I can't wait to get my hands on you. You don't know how long I've been waiting for this."

"Daaaaannnnnyyy," Steve whimpered, unable to articulate anything more coherent.

"Shhhh," Danny repeated. He gently removed Steve's shirt and kissed his shoulder, then moved down his chest, carefully, kissing lightly so as not to aggravate Steve's ribs. He kissed down to the top of Steve's waistband, then came up to run his tongue along the ink on Steve's good arm.

Steve felt like he could explode, and Danny had barely touched him. He writhed, trying to get his hands on Danny, but Danny restrained him with a light touch on the shoulder. Steve stopped straining and gave himself over to the sensations.

Danny worshiped Steve's body for what seemed like forever, licking and kissing every inch. Steve wanted to reciprocate, but even if he hadn't been injured, he was too far gone, lost in a pleasant haze. He was unprepared when Danny took him in his mouth and came almost immediately, harder than he ever had before, screaming Danny's name.

"Marry me," he gasped as he came down from his high.

Danny stilled. "What?"

"Marry me," Steve repeated.

"Don't you think you're moving a little fast, babe?"

"No," Steve said. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I don't want to wait. You can't tell me you don't feel the same way."

Danny took Steve's hand and guided it between them, letting him feel how hard he was. "Oh, I definitely feel the same way."

"Then marry me," Steve said, starting to stroke.

The world fell away, and all Danny felt was Steve. He spiraled higher and higher, lost in the feelings, until he exploded. "Yesssss!" he screamed as he came.

Steve kissed him, hard, as Danny collapsed beside him. "Is that your answer."

"Yes," Danny said, returning the kiss. "The answer's yes. As if it could be anything but."

Yeah, as if. Steve sighed contentedly and drifted off, his soulmate in his arms.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed this little side trip! Now, back to my others!


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